


To Greater Heights

by redtribution



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fear of Heights, Fluff, Keenler - Freeform, established keenler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtribution/pseuds/redtribution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ressler attempts to take Liz on a romantic date, sabotaged by his fear of heights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Greater Heights

After two months of dating, Liz had grown used to Ressler’s hand in hers. Though the name “Don” still tasted strange on her tongue, his hand was something familiar, warm, safe. As she towed him to the line to enter the fair, she relished the feel of his fingers encasing hers. The night was slightly cool, and she allowed herself to snuggle into his side, smiling at his no-nonsense demeanor among the frivolity of the fair.

“Smile, Agent Ressler,” she teased, nudging his arm with her shoulder. “You’re at the fair!”

It took Ressler a moment to respond. “Huh?” he said absently.

Liz surveyed his expression. His eyes were far from her. He stared through the entrance gates with a vacant expression.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Ressler startled. “What?” he said, snapping his eyes to her face. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you ask that?”

He had her concerned now. Liz ignored his denial. “Is it…Audrey?” She inquired. The name was one Liz rarely brought up. Despite the fact that it had been two years since Audrey had died, Liz could still see a trace of pain in Ressler’s eyes when she was mentioned. Loss was something the two of them shared.

“Did you—does this place remind you of her?”

Ressler huffed. “Well, now it does. Thanks a lot, Keen.” He smiled his crooked smile. “Seriously, nothing’s wrong,” he said.

Liz narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Alright,” she said. “But I’ve got my eye on you.”

Ressler pulled her around to face him. “I hope so,” he murmured, bending to plant a deep kiss on her lips. Liz sighed, caught up in the warmth of his grasp.

Behind them in line, a woman scoffed. Liz giggled. “We had better quit,” she muttered, her forehead to Ressler’s. “We’re offending the public.”

Ressler pulled back. “You’re right,” he said seriously. His severe demeanor always made her feel like laughing, though she had made that mistake enough times in the past two months to know not to make it again. She sighed, twisting in his arms as the line moved forward. She spent the remainder of the line allowing him to cradle her against the chill breeze. They paid their entrance fees to a bored-looking teenager with dyed black bangs and allowed her to stamp their hands. Liz blew on the _Admit One_ stamp to dry it as they made their way through the gates, pausing only to display their admittance stamps to the guard.

“Kettle corn?” Ressler inquired, gesturing to a stand twenty feet from them selling that very thing. Liz shrugged. “I don’t really like it, but you should get some if you want it.”

Ressler shook his head, that distant expression still pulling at the corners of his eyes. “No, no,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Alright, Keen; let’s get you on that ferris wheel.”

It had been just yesterday that she had mentioned her fondness of ferris wheels to Ressler, telling him about how Sam had taken her to the fair to ride one every summer when she was growing up. Today after work, he had insisted on taking her to the fair, despite the fact that he normally stuck to a tight schedule on work nights.

The ferris wheel loomed high above them as Liz and Ressler approached, linked by their stamped hands. It was simply massive. Dotted with brightly-colored seats and illuminated by thousands of yellow bulbs, it had a nostalgic feel. It stood up against the indigo sky, rotating slowly. Liz bounced on her feet to stave off the cold as they waited, stopping only when Ressler caught sight of her. He chuckled and pulled her into his chest.

“You’re very…touchy tonight,” Liz commented, leaning her head back against him.

His voice came low in her ear. “I’m keeping you warm, Keen. Count your blessings.”

A smile sprang effortlessly to Liz’s lips. That was one of the things she had found again with Don: easy smiling.

They reached the front of the line. A bundled worker ushered them into the seat, and together, they lifted off toward the sky.

They rose fairly quickly. The ground shrank beneath them, turning the groups of people below them to collections of heads and shoulders. Canvas tents dotted their surroundings, and the night was lit with flashing lights and bright colors.

As the ferris wheel shuddered to a stop, Ressler let out a shaky breath next to her. Liz turned to look at him, alarmed. “Ressler?”

Ressler’s face was paler than normal—a difficult feat for the pasty FBI agent. His hands gripped their lap bar tightly, and a sheen of sweat caused the freckles on his nose to stand out in sharp detail.

“Hey,” Liz said, placing a hand on his bicep, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“What?” Ressler said, distractedly, his teeth clenched. “Uh, yeah. Fine.”

“Ressler,” Liz said sternly. “I can see your face. What’s wrong?”

Ressler was silent.

“Hang on,” Liz said. “Are you…afraid of heights?”

Ressler glanced at her for a brief moment, and let out a defensive _“No!”_ , which was how Liz knew she had hit the nail on the head.

“Oh, Don! Why did you bring me here? We could have just had dinner!” Liz wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He attempted to shrug her off, but was too shaky to do so effectively.

“That wasn’t the point. You like this place, it was supposed to be fun. I didn’t want to ruin it.” The ferris wheel shuddered into action again, and Ressler let out an uneasy _“Oh.”_

Liz was caught somewhere between amusement and empathy. Empathy won out.

“Clearly I am, though,” Ressler said.

“You’re what?”

“Ruining it. I wanted to remind you of nights out with your Dad, but…” Ressler trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut.

Liz sighed. “Come here,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. Ressler remained stick-straight, but Liz felt him tip his head slightly to meet hers, and she knew that was the best he could do. “You’re not ruining it.” She paused. “This is weirdly romantic. You learned something about me, I learned something about you. So, you’re afraid of heights.”

“I’m not—“

“I think we can move past denial, Don. I’m not going to tell.”

Ressler let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders dissipating minutely. The ferris wheel crested the top of its course, and they began their descent. Ressler kept his eyes shut tightly. All the way down, Liz stroked a hand from the back of his neck down his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, though she knew the gesture to be relatively worthless.

“Nearly there,” she whispered as they came to the ground. In front of them, a seat full of children unloaded, and then the wheel brought them to their final destination. However, Ressler appeared not to notice, his eyes still clamped tightly shut.

“Ressler,” Liz said, unwrapping her arms from around his shoulder. “We’re here.”

Ressler’s eyes flew open. His gaze snapped first to Liz’s face in relief, and then to the watching wheel operator, who futilely attempted to conceal his look of amusement. Ressler scowled. He shrugged off Liz’s attempts to pull him to his feet, standing up unsteadily. Taking Liz firmly by the hand, he began to lead her away.

“Scared of heights, are we?” The operator smirked.

“Hey,” Ressler said, “you keep that one to yourself, buddy.”

Liz shot the operator a deadly look, and he quailed. Wrapping the hand not currently holding Ressler’s around his elbow, she said, “Hey, let’s get you something to eat.”

 _“No.”_ Ressler said fervently, turning slightly green.  

“Okay, okay. Let’s just go back to the car.” Ressler sighed, and allowed Liz to lead the way back to his truck. When they reached it, Liz let down the back gate, and she and Ressler took a seat on it. Liz hoped the night air would calm Ressler’s stomach and nerves. After several long minutes, Ressler sighed.

“I’m sorry, Liz. I ruined it. This was supposed to be…sweet.” He looked around at her, green eyes reflecting the glittering light of the fair behind them.

Liz didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed a hand on his cheek, leaned in, and kissed him, hard. Ressler seemed surprised at first, but he soon caved toward her, a soft sound of pleasure escaping his slightly chapped lips.

Liz pulled back. She ran her fingers through his hair delicately, taking in his bewildered expression.

“I didn’t tell you this,” she said, her voice nearly at a whisper, “But my father, Sam? He was afraid of heights.”


End file.
